Disgusting, Heavily Tattooed or On Parole
by popcorn1001
Summary: "This is the first guy that Sam's liked who's not disgusting... or heavily tattooed... or on parole." BEFORE iOMG. It's not fair that she loves him when he loves her best friend... but...there are plenty of other fish in the sea - too bad they all stink.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: NEW STORY. It's only going to be three chapters and in takes place BEFORE iOMG.  
>Let me say that this is a Sam-centric story. I couldn't choose a secondary character because it involves quite a bit of Sam-Carly friendship and Spencer-Sam friendship, as well as Gibby-Sam friendship with just a pinch of Freddie. So... I hope you enjoy the first chapter. <strong>

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><p><strong>Disgusting, Heavily Tattooed or on Parole<strong>

**Sam's POV**

I first realized that I had feelings of more than just hate towards Freddie Benson the night of the Girls' Choice Dance. It took me longer to admit that I might want to be more than just frienemies with the stupid dork and took me twice as long to be okay with that. Just as I was getting up the courage – I mean, hey, it's a lot to risk here, I don't seriously want to chance our already messed-up friendship – to tell him how I felt, he had to save Carly from the taco truck.

I swear I didn't meddle. I meant what I said about Carly to Freddie, it wasn't just because I wanted a chance with Freddie. I told both of them what I thought. First, I asked Carly about the sudden change and when her response had been, "He's my hero," I thought well, that seems stupid, and it led to my foreign bacon analogy. I wasn't going to force them to break up, but I didn't want Freddie to be as heartbroken as I was when I realized he was still in love with Carly. I mean, you don't take on a taco truck for just anyone, and if I had thought Carly's feelings were sincere I would have backed off completely, after all, I suppose she saw him first.

After they broke up or whatever, I decided that I didn't want to be as upset as Freddie was if we ever gave each other a chance. I decided that nothing was worse the rejection Freddie had faced for nearly every day of his live just for one chance that could ruin everything. I did however find myself spending more time with the nub and without Carly; it's not my fault detention and dork club end at the same time so we ended up walking back to Bushwell together more often than we did not, and I often made him stop and buy me a smoothie. That's just the way it worked out.

Even as we began spending more of our afternoons together I realized that pining after Freddie was not going to do me any good, so when I was in detention and one of the detention regulars said, "Yo Puckett, wanna go on a date?" I shrugged and answered, "Why not?" I mean, I wasn't going to spend my life waiting for Freddie to fall in love with me – I understand that real life doesn't work that way. I would at least try to move on.

So now, here I am, waiting for Doug to pick me up from Carly's. "Sam," Carly says, "I am not sure that Doug's such a good guy,"

"Why not?" I ask, rolling my eyes, but secretly appreciative of the protectiveness and worry Carly feels for me. I ran a brush through my hair one more time and looked at Carly.

"Well…he's Rodney's replacement, he gets stuff illegally and you know…he's… not a good role model," she trailed off.

"I'll be fine Carls," I laugh, "It's just one date,"

"But he's in detention ALL the time!" Carly cries.

"I know, how do you think we met?" I raise my eyebrows.

"Sa-aaam," she complains, then after a few moments, "Promise you'll be careful?"

"Of course Carls," I mean it, I don't lie to Carly, I will be careful.

"Ankle swear?" she asks me because that's the secret "handshake" we came up with years ago instead of pinky swear and we keep our words, in less it's a really bad situation (like when I changed Carly's grade in the computer). I reach out and we complete the sacred ankle swearing ritual.

There's a knock on the door then and I trample down the stairs with Carly hot on my heels, "How do I look?" I ask Carly spinning around, I'm not super dressed up, and just a jean skirt with patterned tights and blue blouse that Carly tells me brings out my eyes.

"You know you look hot," she tells me and I answer the door, as Carly goes to join Spencer in the kitchen.

"Hey Sam, you look hot," Dough greets me.

"Thanks, you don't clean up so bad yourself," I lie. Doug is disgusting, his blonde hair is slicked back with something that looks like gelatin gone wrong, and his eyes are hidden behind a pair of shades (um, what, it's night time?). Whatever, this date is just to get my mind off… nope; there'll be no talking of him tonight.

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><p>We don't go to the Groovy Smoothie because I don't want to go anywhere that… he… frequents. Instead we go for wings at a restaurant I know. While we were walking there, Doug grabbed my hand and held it tightly, I cringed but didn't let go; his hand was sweaty. Plus he smelt bad.<p>

We demolish the wings quickly and he says, "So, Sammy, what's next?" and pushes the bill towards me.

"First don't call me Sammy, and secondly we're at least splitting this bill!" I insist, luckily Carly had lent me some money, just in case he wanted to split.

"Ha," he laughs, "You got to come out with me, so you should pay; besides you ate more wings than I did!"

"That makes absolutely no sense," I shout, "First, you asked me out so you should pay, or at least split it, and you're lucky I even went out with you,"

"No one talks to me that way!" Dough screams like a little girl, before stomping away from the table and out of the restaurant. Leaving me stranded and with only enough money to cover half the bill. I take a deep breath, okay, so one date with one loser; it's not the end of the world. You consider dining and dashing as Doug has just done, then remember that you're almost off parole and that you really don't want to get arrested again. Instead I do the more embarrassing thing.

I take my phone out of my pocket and hit speed dial – 1.

"Hey, Carls, can you and Spencer come pick me up? And can you bring $15?" I ask.

It's a mark of how awesome my best friend is when Carly shows up in less than ten minutes, slaps down thirty dollars on the table, and grabs my hand; she pulls me out to the car without saying a word. Spencer's standing outside, leaning against the driver's side door, "That guy's a jerk!" she shrieks puncturing both mine and Spencer's ear drums.

"You okay kiddo?" Spencer asks me and I nod shortly. He opens his arms anyway, and with a slight push from Carly I allow him to hug me, "Don't worry, Sam," he whispers, "You're way too good for him anyway,"

I pull away and into the car, Carly climbs in the other side, and says, "You don't need him you're a Puckett!"

"I know, I've got everything I need in this car," I smile at Carly.

"Including bacon," Carly says, pulling out a Tupperware container from her purse, and handing it to me.

"I knew there was a reason you were my best friend," I tell Carly seriously.

"Only one?" Carly jokes at me.

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><p><strong>AN: So I know I shouldn't be starting another story especially when I haven't update 101 Days of Seddie but this idea was stuck in my head. Plus this story is already finished. I've written all 3 chapters already so R&amp;R!<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Here is chapter 2! Warning: Some language from Sam and her mother.**

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><p><strong>Disgusting, Heavily Tattooed or On Parole<strong>

**Sam's POV**

I met Greg outside the tattoo parlor. My mom was in their getting her 11th tattoo from the same shop. It was free, buy 10 get one free. He called me blondie and I punched him in the face. When he recovered from the punch he said, "I'm Greg, I'm sorry and do you have a light?"

I nod, of course, I always carry a lighter on me, although I don't smoke. I hand it to him and he lights up the cigarette than offers me a smoke, I shake my head lightly, "I don't smoke,"

"You got a name?" he asks and I give him the once-over. Tall, short red hair, green eyes. Tattoo sleeves covering his muscular arms and a leather vest over a white t-shirt, and dark jeans with rips in the knees. Definitely my type.

"Sam," I answer finally.

"Well, Sam, for someone so small you pack quite the punch," he tells me.

"Thanks, I guess," I let a smile grace my features.

"So you getting inked?" he asks me.

"Nah, not old enough to do it by myself yet, just waiting on my mother," I tell him.

"Really? You're not eighteen yet?" He asks me, sounding full of surprise.

"Not until next April," I shrug.

"Wow, you seem more mature," he tells me.

"I had to grow-up fast," I shrug again.

"Well, Sam, do you think it would be totally weird for me to ask you out on a date? Even though I'm nearly 21," Greg asks.

I grin, and then see my mom walking towards the entrance to and say hurriedly, "Here's my number, you should try it out some time," I scribble my number hastily onto a piece of paper, before handing it to him. My mother shouts my name and I hurry over to her, "How's the new tat?" I ask, trying to be a good daughter.

"Hurt like a bitch," she informs me, "But if I buy five more I'll get 2 for free!"

I cringe trying to not to mentally imagine my mother with another 7 tattoos.

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><p>I'm at Carly's when Greg calls and after a slightly girlish scream I take a deep breath and answer the phone.<p>

"Hey Greg," I say as Carly mouths "Who's Greg?" at me.

"Hey Sam," I hear Greg reply, "Are you free?"

"For you, I think I can clear my schedule," I joke.

"Excellent, wear something nice, and where should I pick you up?"

I tell him Carly's address and then he hangs up with a "See you at 7,"

"Who's Greg?" Carly repeats.

"Bad boy I met a few days go," I tell Carly.

"Seriously?" She asks me, clapping her hands excitedly.

"Yup," I say, "He told me to wear something nice. What does _nice_ mean?"

Carly shrieks, "Awww I'm so excited for you! Let's raid my closet."

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><p>Greg knocks on the door and I make the mistake of letting Spencer answer. As I walk carefully down the last few stairs I see him eyeing Greg with an almost glare. "So, Greg where are you taking my sister?" he asks.<p>

"Sam's your sister?" Greg asks surprise, "Wow, she looks nothing like you,"

I clear my throat, "Spencer's not my brother,"

"Close enough," I hear Spencer mutter under his breath.

"Ah," Greg says, "Well then, Spencer, I'm taking Sam to Mes Amis,"

"Be back by 11," Spencer says still eyeing Greg with what is supposed to be a withering glare.

"Don't tell me what to do," I say, as I leave, raising one hand in a wave.

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><p>"NO WAY!" I shout as see the convertible that Greg has led me to, "This car is yours?"<p>

"Yeah, it's mine," Greg laughs, "My Dad owns an MG store,"

I run my hand approvingly along the side of the car, "This is a sexy car,"

Greg winks, "Not as sexy as you, Sam."

I feel my face flush and adjust my curls to cover it, "Let's go eat," I announce hopping into the passenger seat.

We arrive at the restaurant and I'm touched when Greg opens the passenger door for me.

We walk to the door and are seated at a small both. "Wow, this menu looks amazing,"

"Let me order for you," he suggests.

Well, I'm always up for trying something new, so why not? "Okay,"

Theserver comes over and Greg orders our food, everything ordered sounds delicious, we make small talk as we await our food. Greg makes me laugh a few times, and I'm proud to say I also make him laugh quite a bit.

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><p>When he pulls up to Bushwell he says, "Should I walk you to the elevator?"<p>

"That'd be nice," I say, and I'm not lying, I'm perfectly capable of walking there by myself but it's a nice offer. He holds the lobby door open for me, clearly remembering that I am a girl, which is important to me. I mean the only one who ever holds doors for me is… no. We've gone almost a whole night now, a fairly enjoyable night too.

"I had a great time," I tell Greg.

"Thanks me too," he presses the up button on the elevator, and then leans in, and I'm standing on my tiptoes when the elevator dings and who should walk out but Freddie Benson himself.

Our eyes meet and we stare awkwardly at each other, "Uh, didn't mean to interrupt, just going to give Lewbert's latest love note to my mom back to him," he said.

I sigh a deep sigh, "It's okay, Fredward, this is Greg, Greg, Fredward,"

"Freddie," he corrects extending his hand, which Greg shakes. Freddie leaves the note on Lewbert's desk and heads to repress the elevator (it had left during the introductions) button.

"So, Sam," Greg says, "I'll give you a call, yeah?" then he leaves after I slowly nod, somehow doubting that he would ever call me again simply because of this situation, but not really sure I wanted him to call me back anyway. When Greg had been about to kiss me, all I could think about was that night on the fire escape.

The elevator dings once more and Freddie I enter in silence although the silence doesn't last long.

"How many tattoos does that guy have?" Freddie scoffs.

"13," I replied, "6 to complete each sleeve and one on his butt." I wiggle my eyebrows suggestively

"You saw it?" Freddie sputters.

"No," I roll my eyes, "Just heard about it,"

Freddie snorts, "How old is he anyway?"

"21," I answer.

"21?" Freddie shouts, "Sam, you're 17!"

"I am perfectly aware of my age, Fredwad," I pause before I add sarcastically, "In fact, I even know when own birthday is!"

There's a few seconds of silence as the elevator stops on the eighth floor and we exit, "Besides since when have you cared who I date?"

I open and close the door to the Shay's leaving Freddie floundering in the hallway for a satisfactory answer. I lean back against the Shay's door and close my eyes, of all people I had to fall in love with – why him?

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><p><strong>AN: I hope you liked Greg. He's a perfectly acceptable and nice guy. Yes, he's a little older than Sam and has tattoos, I didn't want him to fall into a stereotype ( I mean I have a tattoo), if Sam wasn't in love with Freddie she'd have gone out with him again. Also, who liked the scene with Freddie? Yeah, someone seems a little jealous doesn't he? R&amp;R!<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Last chapter! Some epic Gibby in this. Also, there's a not so good situation which makes me stress, this story is rated T for a reason. Okay, enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Disgusting, Heavily Tattooed, and On Parole<strong>

**Sam's POV**

"Sam, this will be your third date with a different guy this week, are you sure you don't want to talk about it?" Carly asks me, as we both curl up on her bed before a dreaded Monday morning.

"No, I'm fine," I say.

She reaches over and gently brushes a hair back from my face, "Sam, this guy isn't safe,"

"How do you know he isn't safe?" I ask.

"You met him in an alleyway, while he was running from the cops!" she exclaims, and I shush her, not wanting Spencer to wake and overhear us. "He's on parole!" she continues, but quieter when I remove my hand from over her mouth.

"Carls," I start, "I'm on parole,"

Carly opens her mouth, doing an excellent impression of a fish, and then finally says, "Yes, but you've stopped running from the cops, you're going to be okay,"

"I know, Carly, I know," I smile, without Carly I don't know what I would do, "But Marco's not a bad guy, just like you know I'm not a bad girl."

Carly continues to stare at me skeptically for a few moments, then finally she's sigh, "Okay, Sam, goodnight,"

"Goodnight Carls," I roll over and close my eyes.

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><p>I was happy to leave the Groovy Smoothie, this date had been horrible. It's not that Marco isn't into me, it is the fact that he's too into me. He's "accidentally" touched my butt twice, and I am really not that kind of girl, despite what some of the rumors around school are.<p>

I am just headed to his car so he can drop me back off at my house, not Bushwell tonight. I haven't been home in a couple of days, and I need to make sure Frothy's still surviving, plus I didn't want another Spencer incident, so he had picked me up there too. When suddenly his hands are on my hips and his lips are attacking my face, his body pressing me against the car. I push him away, "Listen to me, if you think that I'm going to…get you laid… then think again mister,"

Marco glares down at me and says, "So what Puckett, you ask me out and now you're not going to give it up?" His body is still pressing into mine and I'm starting to get scared, this is not a good situation to be in. I lift my hands to push him away harder this time, but Marco surprises me with his swiftness. He holds my hands above my head, both of my wrists trapped in one of his hands_._

I narrow my gaze and gnash my teeth together, kicking and when he presses his lips to mine again, I bit his lip hard. He pulls away and yanks harder on my wrists which is when I shout. I kick and bite and scream again, my heart beating faster as he pushes his full weight against me, crushing me into his car. For the first time in my life, I am not sure if I will be strong enough to escape this situation.

Just as I am about to give in and just deal with the consequences later, Marco is knocked aside by a strong force. He lets me go and I rub my wrists before waiting for him and the other person to stand. The other person is the last person on earth I expected it to be. I wait for them both to stand, and turn so my back is facing my unlikely hero. We work almost effortlessly together as my anger blossoms, and when the kid has one arm trapped behind Marco's back I punch his lights out. Then, in an unspoken agreement we're both running, running, running and it's been one, two, three blocks, when we both stop, breathless from our impromptu ass-kicking.

The last thing I expect is for him to yell at me, "You're an idiot!" Gibby begins, and I assume the defensive position, arms crossed, feet apart, don't break eye contact.

He looks scared for only a moment before he throws his shoulders back and continues shouting, "What would Carly think?"

Really? Does he think I don't tell my best friend where I am going? That's not going to fly, "She knew where I was and with who,"

"I can't believe you were out with a guy like that… probably drunk or high…did he just get out of jail? I can't even imagine what Freddie-"

I drop my arms and take a step back, who knew just hearing his name would make me feel so ashamed of myself? I can imagine what he would say, word for word, his chance to insult me, to get the revenge he's always wanted. To tell me that I'll never be like Carly and that he's surprised I'm not still being arrested. Why did Gibby have to say his name? I was just happy kicking Marco's ass and now he's been dragged into this mess, all I wanted to do was forget about him.

Gibby suddenly has a look of understanding on his face and before I can stop him he's wrapped me into a huge bear-hug, and I don't know why but I am hugging him back. Glad to finally have someone to confide in (it's not like I can tell Carly), and Gibby is surprisingly comforting. I conceal my face in his shirt and let one or two tears escape, but Gibby's never seen me cry and I'm not going to start letting him now. I pull away with a clear face.

"Thanks Gibby," _for everything,_ I add silently.

"Anytime, Sam," he replies sounding sincere. We stand there looking at each other for a few moments then Gibby says, "Sam, do you wanna grab a coffee with me?"

I shrug, better than heading back to the Groovy Smoothie or going home.

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><p>We head to the nearest Skybucks and Gibby purchases me a drink with lots of extra whip cream. Then he sits down across from me and says the smartest thing I've ever heard him say, "You should tell him how you feel,"<p>

I shake my head sadly, "He loves Carly,"

Gibby frowns at me, "I don't think he does Sam,"

"He's always loved Carly," I insist.

"He used to love Carly," Gibby tries to correct me.

"He doesn't love me," I bite my lip.

"You don't know that," Gibby retorts. I sip my coffee in silence. "You know, you're so busy hiding how you feel, Freddie doesn't even realize how awesome you are, if I didn't already have a girlfriend, and you wouldn't break my thumbs and you weren't head over heels for iCarly's tech producer, I'd ask you out,"

I tentatively smile at Gibby and he asks me a question I never thought I would accept from him, "Want me to walk you home?"

No. Not home. Frothy can wait one more day, Marco had picked me up from home. Mom's not home tonight, "Back to Bushwell instead?" I suggest instead.

"Sure," Gibby agrees.

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><p>Gibby left me at the lobby and I let myself into Carly's apartment with my trusty hair pin. Spencer is sitting on the couch with Carly, they're watching a late night movie, even though Carly should be in bed, it's a school night.<p>

She takes one look at me and says, "What happened?"

I flop myself down on the couch, squeezing between Carly and Spencer. "I'm not okay," I say into my hands.

"What's wrong?" Carly's hand is already reaching out to rub my back.

"I'm trying to hide from my feelings," I mumble.

"What feelings Sam?" she asks me, and I can practically feel Spencer's concern radiating into me.

"I can't tell you, yet." I feel Carly tug lightly on my hair, as I continue, "I need to sort things out first," and it's true, there's no way I can inform her of what it going on, if I don't even know what I'm going to do yet.

I tip myself over so I can lean my head on Carly's lap. She smiles down at me, "Sam, you just need to tell us when you're ready,"

I don't know when that day is, and I don't know if it will ever happen but I still find myself saying, before I drift off into some much needed sleep, "I will, promise."

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><p><strong>AN: Gibby totally kicks ass. If you want tohaven't already seen it, you can see the fight from his POV in my story 101 Days of Seddie, chapter titled Random. I know this doesn't really resolve anything, but I think it gives Carly a little more reason to be so suspicious of Sam's seemingly-random actions during and before the lock-in. It also explains why Sam doesn't want Carly to know just yet. R&R!**


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